Chapter Nine
"A month."
Instead of answering Hans question about mana. I held up my single, fleshy finger in response. I offered him the timeframe like a sentence, withholding the context.
Explanations were a form of power, and power, when surrendered too freely, lost its edge. Only fools would go around offering explanations whenever asked a question.
Hans blinked. He stared at me with the frantic, searching look of a man trying to decipher a contract written in a dead language. "A… a month, Your Grace? For what, exactly?"
"For results," I responded as I leaned back.
Seeing is better than believing after all.
Creaaaakkkk.
The bedframe groaned beneath my heavy weight, offering a free reminder of everything I needed to fix in a month.
"You don't need to grasp the mechanics of mana yet," I continued, my voice dropping to a steady tone. "Understanding without preparation breeds panic. Panic leads to mistakes. And in this duchy, mistakes are a luxury we cannot afford. Apart from that, I have no reason to trust a fallen noble of South with the secrets of North. Do I?"
A small smile played on my lips as I gazed out the window.
"How does Your Grace know that?"
"I have my ways."
Hans swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in the dim light.
"From this moment forward," I said, "you are appointed Finance Head of the Halcrest Duchy."
The silence that followed wasn't one of awe. It was the silence of a man watching a trap snap shut.
"Y-Your Grace," Hans stammered, his voice cracking. He spine straightening as his hands gripped on the handles scarred wooden chair. "I don't know how you know that I've been exiled to the North, or that I'm the former Finance Head of House Valerius. But there is only so much I can do."
He gestured toward the window, toward the desolate horizon of the Halcrest Duchy covered in snow.
"A Finance Head manages money the fief already has. But that is not the case here! This duchy is 1.2 million gold in debt. There is no money to manage; there is only a hole that swallows everything. I have a family to think of. I cannot… I cannot play along with Your Grace's delusions."
Silence fell over the small room.
Hans looked up, his gaze was narrow and his voice was bitter. "There's a reason the Emperor sent his own step-brother to the North. He didn't give you a title, Your Grace. He gave you a sentence. Life quietly and die quietly. No matter how much you try to 'develop' this rock, it will remain a bankrupt wasteland. There's a reason we call it the Land of Exile when no one is listening."
Ah... so that was it.Veryon was probably either the son of a concubine or an illegitimate bastard.
Well, whatever it is. It's hard to feel sorry for him. Diamonds are made under pressure. He not only broke under pressure but also dragged the entire fief down with him.
Also, my money bank almost died today because of him.
No way, I'm going to pity a guy like that.
"As far as I'm concerned, he only said that I am the Duke of the North—Duke Halcrest," I began, my voice steady against the howling gale rattling the windowpanes. "What he indirectly implies is none of my concern. And it certainly shouldn't be yours, Keiran Hans."
Hans stiffened, his eyes darting toward the heavy oak door. "Duke, I am already an exiled man. I cannot risk my family's lives by associating with you. I cannot accept this deal."
"Is that truly your choice?" I leaned back, letting the silence of the room add weight to my words. "Do you not crave revenge against those who framed you? Those who made your family suffer in this frozen waste while they enjoy the vineyards of the Southern Land? The decision is ultimately yours, Hans. But I suggest you listen to the terms before you walk out. Because, once you do whatever happens to you will be none of my concerns."
Hans froze. He didn't speak, but the tension in his shoulders told me he was listening.
Hah. Indeed, when it comes to family, humans become truly gullible.
"I cannot pay you in gold today. That is an objective fact," I said, lifting a finger to check off the grim reality. "However, I hold the grain reserves. The frozen soil. The legal rights to the Glacial Pass—the only merchant pass that doesn't require a tribute to the Southern Lords."
Looks like asking Vizen about the privileges I still haven't gambled off to Vische, before leaving is going to be useful.
I raised a second finger.
"And, you hold the distribution networks, the hard-earned trust of the Southern merchants, and an intuition for trade flows that even exile couldn't dull." I lowered my hand, locking my gaze onto his. "Separately, we are two different brands of failure, Hans. Together? We could be a monopoly."
Hans opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off.
"You fear this role because you think it will be the end of you. That is your first mistake. Refusing it is what guarantees your end." I lowered my voice. "I am the only one offering a guarantee for your family's safety."
The blood drained from his face, leaving him a sickly grey.
"If you walk out that door," I continued, my tone as neutral as a ledger entry, "the 'Financial Genius of the South' becomes a ghost. And we both know the people who framed you won't let a ghost—or his family—rest for long. After all, they do have to close the loose ends."
Behind me, I felt Kaelen shift—a ripple of discomfort—but I didn't turn.
[Ping!]
[Kaelen is wondering if the incompetent duke has been possessed. We suggest host to be careful.]
Ah... I almost forgot about him. I'll need to deal with him after Hans.
"If you stay," I leaned forward, the shadows of the room stretching with me, "your family eats. They sleep in a heated estate. They are shielded by the Halcrest name. I swear on my honor. Not a single hair on their heads will be touched. We have such a great Knight Head, after all. Right, Kaelen?"
"Y-Yes, Your Grace."
"The choice is now yours to make, Hans."
I paused, letting the gravity of the choice settle.
"In thirty days, when the first shipment of mana stones leaves the North under your seal. After that, you won't just be a merchant. You'll be the gatekeeper of the North's greatest monopoly."
Hans's hands trembled against his knees, his knuckles white.
"One… one month, you say?" he whispered.
"One month," I confirmed. "After that, the choice is yours. Remain as my subordinate, or resign with enough capital to buy your revenge and never kneel to another man again."
I let a faint, sharp smile touch my lips. "This isn't charity, Hans. It's an investment. Didn't you ask for compensation for your wagon?"
The room went still, save for the whistling wind battering the stone walls. Finally, Hans let out a long, ragged exhale. His shoulders slumped—the posture of a man who had looked at the chopping block and realized the executioner was his only hope.
"…What are your first orders, Your Grace?"
I allowed myself a moment of internal satisfaction. The smartest men always knew when resistance became a waste of energy.
[Ping!]
[Loyalty: 20]
[20,000 Trade Points Awarded!]
[System: Keiran Hans has accepted the role: Finance Head (Provisional)]
[Tier Four Grade B Trade Shop Unlocked!]
For twenty thousand only grade B? I really should check the Trade Shop and Gacha soon.
"Arrive at the estate in two days, Hans. With your family, of course," I said, my voice softening just enough to signal the end of the conversation. "We'll finalize the contract then."
Hans stood, his movements stiff and mechanical, as if his body were still catching up to the fact that his family would no longer have to starve in this cold, barren land. He bowed low—lower than he had when I first entered—his forehead nearly touching his trembling knees.
"I'll heed your orders, Your Grace," he murmured, his voice thick with a mix of exhaustion and a newfound, fragile hope.
Well, I don't blame him. I feel a bit tired myself.
I gave a curt, dismissive nod, already turning my attention to the frost on the glass of window. "You can leave now."
Hans lingered for a heartbeat, his gaze flickering toward the window where the blizzard still raged, then back to me. With a final, shallow breath, he backed away toward the door, fumbling slightly with the heavy iron latch before slipping out into the hallway.
Clink!
The click of the door closing echoed through the room.
[Ping!]
[Kaelen can finally breathe.]
Ah... I had to deal with that too.
"Kaelen?"
"Yes, Your Grace?"
"You're fired."